Tales of Argus
by PolkaStripes
Summary: Poor Argus. So much to do, so many eyes, and so many demigods wreaking havoc in his camp. It's a good thing he's here to stay.


Argus had just about had it.

This was the fifteenth—no, sixteenth time he found himself chasing down this Hermes kid. I mean, was he _serious_? Sure, let's break all the camp rules so that Argus has _more_ work to do. Ugh.

Two hundred and fifty years he had been working at this camp, and does he get any recognition? No. Not that Argus minded much. Having one-hundred eyes, he preferred to be the watch _er_ , not the watchee. Was that a word? Who knows.

Anyway, back to the situation at hand, Argus thought. He was running at a dead sprint through camp grounds, chasing after Connor Stoll (whom at the present was nearly naked). Gods above, did he have no decency? There were children in this camp. In fact, there were _primarily_ children in this camp. Argus couldn't allow their innocent minds to be tainted.

He would _not_ allow camp rules to be broken.

Argus had heard the screaming when he was overseeing the Hephaestus cabin's archery practice (which always ended in an explosion, it seemed). A shrill, girly "aaaaAAAIIIII" had pierced his ears, coming from the cabins. Ever the protector, Argus had come running.

He rounded the corner and spotted the disturbance immediately. Cabin ten, the home of the Aphrodite children, was being terrorized by that infuriating Stoll boy.

It seemed that some older daughters of the love goddess had been enjoying a small picnic in front of their cabin. Now, however, havoc had been wreaked. Drinks had been spilt, plates had been thrown, and, Argus noted glumly, sandwiches had been dropped and spread unceremoniously on the lovely silk blanket the girls had laid out. And there in all his unclothed glory had been Connor Stoll, 'entertaining' the group with some odd bouncing…er..dancing?

Argus didn't know. He didn't care, really. All he cared about is that there were camp _rules_ being broken and it was his job to put a stop to it. Camp Half-Blood Handbook Section Three paragraph one: Thou shalt remain in camp-approved dress code attire unless instructed otherwise by a camp official or Olympian. And this was just _one_ of the camp rules Connor had violated since he arrived at camp.

Yeah, that's right, Argus had memorized the handbook. What else was he going to do with so much time on his hands and so many eyes on his body? So, sue him. He got bored.

Connor spotted Argus immediately. He gave a quick imp-like grin and waved for a moment before darting off in the opposite direction. Argus scowled and took off after him, passing the Aphrodite girls. He wanted to stop and help them clean up, but this was more urgent.

Styx, this kid was fast. Good thing Argus was faster.

Argus chased the son of Hermes past a few cabins, thankfully passing the Poseidon cabin. The Jackson boy had recently come back from the beach, and had left a towel hanging on a post outside. Argus grabbed it and held it in front of him. He was now only a few feet from Stoll.

Six feet….five feet…four…there! Argus took a flying leap and tackled the teen to the ground, simultaneously wrapping the towel around his waist to cover his tidy-whities.

Connor squirmed weakly and turned his head towards Argus. He had dirt smudged down his cheek. "Heh," the boy smiled and winked mischievously, "You got me again, oh great all-seeing eye."

Argus got up with a scowl and allowed Connor to flip over, offering a hand to help him up. Connor accepted and adjusted the towel around his waist. He then held his wrists out towards Argus with a grin. "Take me away then, copper."

Argus did not find this funny. Why did no-one take the rules seriously? They were made for a reason. Nobody took Argus seriously, either. This was just one of about seven troublemakers he caught _today_. Of course, a few violations he could let pass with a nicely aimed warning glare. This was not one of those violations.

Argus took Connor by the shoulder and nudged him lightly. He got the message, and started towards the Big House with a lighthearted shrug. Argus followed closely behind, arms crossed, ready to apprehend an escape attempt.

Finally they made it. The Big House certainly lived up to it's name – somehow the old farm house looked even larger in the light of the setting sun, and it loomed more over Argus and Connor the closer they got. Neither of them was intimidated, though. They both had lived on these stunning strawberry fields for years. Well, Argus a bit more.

Argus didn't break his stride, and stepped right up to the wooden door, opening it with a creak. He stepped aside to let Connor in. The teen swaggered in with a face that Argus _hated:_ A combination of cockiness and glee that Argus had seen on the face of too many Hermes children. He steamed inwardly and led the way to the sitting room, where they would find Chiron. Connor matched his pace and sharply struck Argus on the back, which was what Argus supposed was a 'friendly gesture'. "Hey, lighten up, buddy," chuckled Connor. Argus did not lighten up.

They stepped into the sitting room. There at the coffee table sat Chiron in his wheelchair, as usual. He customarily chose to be free and roam as a centaur, but the wheelchair made for easier access in the big house. A horse's body was destructive in a house like this. The warm, plushy sofa and armrests were sturdy enough, but just one knock to the wall and some picture frame would fall somewhere.

The wooden halls were full of picture frames featuring past demigod pupils of Chiron. He liked to pretend to not be concerned with the past, but Argus knew he was a big softie. Chiron loved all the demigods in the camp, young and old.

Argus approached Chiron, nudging Connor forward. Chiron smiled at the both of them and stroked his beard, a twinkle in his eye. "And what have you done this time, young man?"

Connor looked to Argus with a mock questioning expression. Argus scowled and nodded his head briskly in Chiron's direction, signaling Connor to fess up.

Connor sighed with fake exasperation, "I was just treating some of the ladies to my glorious moves. Blondie-boy over here must have been jealous or something." Chiron raised his eyebrow and glanced at Connor's half-clothed appearance. He waited for more.

Connor flopped lazily onto the faded leather couch. "Okay, so I might have not been wearing pants. Or a shirt. But hey, it's my version of _interpretive_ dancing," He looked at Argus with a pout, "Is it camp rules now to repress the creativity of the children? Am I not allowed to express myself?"

Argus rolled all of his eyes, making his entire body swirl, but Chiron chuckled. "Mr. Stoll, I trust that you will not do this again. You may have traumatized quite a few campers. I would let this slide, but," Chiron glanced at Argus, who was standing behind Connor with a stern face, "alas, perhaps this is one to many rules broken. To alieve Argus' troubles, I sentence you to a night on dish duty."

Connor groaned, "Fiiine. Can I leave now?"

Argus was appalled at this blatant disrespect towards the camp director, but it seemed to be a growing trend in this day and age. Chiron, however, didn't seem fazed.

"Yes, I do believe it is nearing dinnertime. Do make sure you clothe yourself before attending," Chiron called after him, as Connor was already out the door. Argus whirled to the camp director and gave him an incredulous look after Connor slammed the door.

Chiron smiled, "Now Argus, I know you take your job seriously, and so do I. But these are children, and they need a bit of breathing room."

Argus tilted his head back and sighed, bringing a hand up to massage the bridge of his nose.

"Yes, yes," Chiron assured, "if he breaks another rule there will be greater consequences. Now, why don't you get ready for dinner too? I heard we're having barbeque tonight."

Argus shook his head and walked out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him and trying to simmer down. He knew what 'getting ready for dinner' meant for him: overseeing the cooks and making sure nothing was poisoned, guarding the borders of the camp while the others were eating (not that he didn't guard the borders all the time), making sure fights didn't break out. Argus rarely ate, himself. He didn't really need to.

Gods, it sounded like he hated working here, didn't it? But he didn't. Quite the opposite; Argus loved this camp with all his heart. He loved seeing the campers come and go, learning skills, becoming heroes, making friends. He had watched the camp grow.

He had worked as a guard, overseer, chaperone, designated driver, and even sometimes cleaning crew for the past couple-hundred years – unappreciated jobs, yes, but Argus wasn't complaining. He loved this camp. It had been his home ever since Hera had cast him aside and assigned him here. He had nowhere else to go.

Argus smiled to himself as he reached the front door. 'Still,' he thought, 'not a bad place to be.'

He stepped onto the porch and admired the setting sun over the fields. Right. Time for dinne-

A god-worthy explosion shook the wood under his feet and sent birds flying from the trees. Argus sighed. It seemed the Hephaestus children were at it again.

He set off for the archery range, a weary smile on his face.

 **Hellooo, so this is my first fanfiction so constructive criticism and no flames please ^_^ As of now this is a one-shot, but if by some miracle this fic becomes popular I would be more than willing to continue.**

 **I just felt that Argus was so ignored and underappreciated, I mean he isn't even listed as a character on this site (so sad)**

 **So shoutout to Argus for being awesome. Thank you for reading!**


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